Page 25 of Of Socialites and Prizefights

“Eleven-forty-five?” she offered, and Roz kissed her open-mouthed over her throat, making her shiver deliciously.

“Lead the way.”

CHAPTER TEN

ON BATH SOAPS AND BEDROOM INTIMACIES

“What do you want to do with the time we’ve got?” Roz asked, following her into the flat.

“I didn’t plan this far ahead,” Deepa admitted. “You should kiss me again while we think of something.”

Roz obliged as if there were nothing more in the world she’d rather do. “Let me run you a bath?” she murmured against Deepa’s lips.

Deepa hesitated a second before inclining her head and sweeping one arm towards the bath in invitation. Every instinct her mother had ingrained in her to play the hostess and dote on her guest crashed up against the fact that Roz wasn’t a tea-party guest but something more intimate, and if she wanted to spoil Deepa in her own home, then Deepa should allow it. Taking her by the hand, Roz tugged her into the bathroom like it was her place, not Deepa’s, and Deepa followed willingly.

Inside, Roz looked to her for permission before turning the water on, testing the heat, then stopping the drain and lettingthe claw-foot tub fill up. Along the rim by the wall, a flock of jars and bottles lined up like an apothecarist’s shop, each with its own colour, scent, and purpose.

“Not that one,” Deepa said, when Roz reached for a lavender bottle of liquid bath soap.

Roz paused with her fingers curled around the cap, a question in her eyes.

“It's too floral,” Deepa explained, wrinkling her nose in mild embarrassment. “It was a gift from Bassenwood, so I use it when I know I'll see him, but I don’t care for it.”

“What scent do you like?”

“The one that looks like honey. It smells like vanilla and brown sugar.”

Roz lifted the bottle from its row of mates, twisting the cap off to give it a try before pouring it under the rushing faucet. Warm gold bubbles foamed up to crowd against the porcelain edges of the tub. Roz knelt there, one hand in the water to monitor the temperature, her back to the rest of the room. Deepa watched her for a moment, down on one knee, head bent, looking so serious, like there was nothing more important in the world than fixing the perfect bath for her girl.

Deepa felt like she was already submerged, so warm she had to bite her lip to keep from laughing. She finished undressing in silence, the rustle of fabric hidden under the sound of running water. With her slip in a silken pool around her feet and her hair free of its ties, she waited as Roz finally determined that the water had reached its perfect depth and temperature, and twisted the faucet off. She turned, about to speak, only to freeze, dumbstruck.

Deepa stood naked, brown-skinned and long-legged as a fawn, without a single charm or glamour to disguise her. Roz stared like she’d been graced with the company of a living, breathing goddess, her lips parted and her eyes round and soft.

“Oh, fuck me,” she breathed, all reverence.

Slowly, Deepa removed her piercings and then the rings on her fingers. Roz held out both hands, palms cupped to receive them, standing up halfway and offering her elbow for Deepa to hold as she stepped into the bath. The bubbles crackled, caressing her skin, as she lowered herself into the water. The temperature was perfect, which came as no surprise, and she settled herself comfortably at the end, breathing deep the warm scent of sugar-sweet vanilla before meeting Roz's gaze.

“Are you just going to watch me soak?” she asked playfully.

“Sweetheart, I’d be happy watching you do anything.”

Though Deepa’s shoulders, knees, and the tops of her breasts were above the water, the bubble bath cloaked her completely, covering every hint of skin up to her neck. Naked as she was, her attire had never been more modest.

“I don’t know that I’m giving you much of a show.”

“If I wanted a performance, we could’ve stayed downstairs.” Setting Deepa’s jewellery on the sink counter, Roz knelt again by the side of the tub, her elbows resting on its rim, hands folded respectfully. “God, you’re gorgeous,” she murmured. “Why bother with all those spells and glamours when you look like this without them?”

“It's not out of vanity or self-deception. I can't afford to let mennotpay attention to me.”

“You literally can’t afford it.”

Deepa skimmed her hands over the water’s surface underneath the bubbles. “I know I’m not exactly living in a fairytale castle,” she said with a self-deprecating smile. “But I enjoy a certain lifestyle, and I’m planning for a very specific future. If I drop the glamours, I run the risk of men passing me by to spend their money on someone else.” She shook her head, her hair trailing through the bubbles, getting heavier as the ends soaked through. “I can’t have that.”

“No, we can't have you working for a living,” Roz said. Though she was smiling, her words didn't sound entirely like a joke.

“I am working for a living. Not with my hands, but it’s work, all the same.”

“I know. Didn’t mean it like that.”

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